


Maybe Not the Dumbest Idea Ever

by TeekiJane



Category: Baby-Sitters Club - Ann M. Martin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 02:02:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1287097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeekiJane/pseuds/TeekiJane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘Even though I thought that having a karaoke party was silly—you weren’t going to see <i>me</i> up there singing, no matter how much I might have to drink—it wasn’t even on the level of some of the dumb things we as a group had done in high school.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe Not the Dumbest Idea Ever

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place within the same chronology as my other stories, featuring some of the same plot points. However, I think it stands okay on its own, so you don’t have to read any of my other work to understand this. I have years’ worth of stories from this universe inside my crazy head, so I may come back and write more about the adult or high school BSC. We shall see.

¬“Whose bright idea was this?” Kristy grumbled as the two of us sat at a slightly dirty, scarred table in a dimly lit bar.

I rolled my eyes at her without looking up from the table, where my hands were set flat in front of me. I twisted my wedding ring around my finger. “You know the answer to that,” I pointed out. 

“Yeah, well,” she started, but then faded out. She took a sip of water, grimacing. “Since when do we listen to anything Abigail Stevenson suggests?” 

I wanted to laugh. Despite the fact that, for just about all of high school, Kristy had grudgingly called Abby her best friend, the two of them had never gotten past being rivals. They’d competed against each other, rather than together, on the cross country team for three years, and they’d always found some excuse to make everything else into a contest. 

I don’t think that was why Kristy was really cranky, though. I was drinking a vodka and cranberry. She was about six months pregnant and could only have water. She’d already griped at me for drinking in front of her when all she really wanted was a nice cold beer. 

Abby was in town for a short visit, and somehow, she’d managed to coax Kristy and me out to this bar for what she called ‘The BSC Karaoke Event of the Century.’ (She’d emailed me, and the over-capitalization was all hers.) Kristy and I weren’t the only former BSC members who still lived in Connecticut, but we weren’t sure who else was actually going to show up. 

“This has got to be the dumbest thing we’ve ever done,” Kristy mumbled as we watched the bar employees set up the karaoke machine. “Us? Singing karaoke? It’s clichéd. It’s stupid.” 

I let her get her little rant out. Get a master’s degree in psychology and you learn how to deal with stuff like this pretty easily. Whining friends from childhood are nothing compared to who I work with all day long: childhood sexual assault victims. Even though I thought that having a karaoke party was silly—you weren’t going to see _me_ up there singing, no matter how much I might have to drink—it wasn’t even on the level of some of the dumb things we as a group had done in high school. “Oh, you know this is far from the stupidest thing we’ve ever done,” I told her. “That party at Stacey’s house when the cops got called? The time Abby talked the two of us into forging notes so we could get our belly buttons pierced?” I’d chickened out; Abby’s mom had taken hers away as a punishment. Surprisingly, Kristy, who didn’t go for jewelry or makeup or stylish clothes, had worn hers for three years before she’d gotten pregnant the first time. “How about that summer that Dawn and Claudia smoked pot every weekend? Or the time that….” 

“Point taken, Mary Anne,” Kristy said dryly. She shifted uncomfortably, putting one hand on her already massive belly. I don’t think she was that huge with her first pregnancy until just weeks before her daughter was born. Of course, she had a reason for being so much larger this time around—twin boys. She glanced at her watch irritably. “Leave it to Abby to invite us out and then be late,” she said. Kristy was working as an x-ray tech and she recently switched from working nights, which paid better but was harder on her, to days. The extra baby weight and the change in schedule were making her moodier than normal. 

“Relax,” I told her, still spinning my ring. It’s a habit I picked up when I first got married that I’ve never been able to quit. It used to be a nervous twitch, but I’ve found myself doing it even when I have no reason to be nervous. “She’s not actually late yet. She said she’d be here sometime between six and six thirty. It’s six-oh-two.”

The door to the bar opened, letting in the summer light. A familiar face entered, but not the one Kristy was so grumpy about. “Jessi!” she called with a wave. “We’re over here!” 

Jessi smiled at us and crossed the bar, pulling up the chair next to Kristy. “Long time no see,” she joked toward me. I’d had dinner with her just last week. Despite the fact that she was almost twenty-two, Jessi had just started classes at Stoneybrook University the past spring. She’d headed to New York straight out of high school and had spent the next two years dancing before breaking her leg. She’d had a lot of therapy, but there didn’t seem to be any way for her to regain her former skill level—something about bones and whatnot that I didn’t really understand. She was taking classes toward a business degree. Kristy had been planning to go back to school with her, but her surprise pregnancy had pushed that back a year. 

Jessi ordered a beer, earning her a glare from the mom-to-be. “Sorry,” she said lightly. “It’s a bar, Kristy. You can’t fault people for doing what’s natural here.” 

“Yeah, but I can get cranky about being the only one not drinking.” 

Jessi laughed. “You won’t be the only one. Abby doesn’t drink; you know that. And neither does Stacey, for that matter.” Her beer was delivered and she took a small sip and then pushed it aside. “So who all is coming to this event?” 

Kristy thought about that for a minute. “Somehow, I doubt Stacey is driving in from Buffalo just to sing with us. Claud said she’d come in from NYC if Shannon would give her a ride. But Shannon wasn’t sure she’d be able to come. It may end up the three of us and our bossy hostess.” 

Jessi smiled. “Well, there will be at least one more. Stacey’s in town. She was coming in any way to help her mom with something, so she’ll definitely be here.” 

I raised my eyebrows. “How do you know that when I don’t? I’m usually the first one Stacey calls when she hits town.” Stacey and I had been best friends through most of high school. Claudia had gone off with an artsier crowd, and while I didn’t consider myself cool in any way, between my friendship with Stacey and my relationship with my now-husband, I managed to become part of the cool crowd, however peripherally. 

“College girl gossip chain?” Jessi replied with a laugh. “Becca had her high school group of friends over this afternoon. In between the squealing over one of them getting engaged, I overheard Charlotte mention that Stacey would be in town for the weekend.” She took another sip of beer, trying to be nonchalant about it. It didn’t have the desired effect, so she gave it up. “As for why she didn’t mention it to you, maybe she wanted it to be a surprise to everyone? If that’s the case, you didn’t hear this. Act surprised.” 

I laughed. “Like Stacey won’t know the second she looks at my face.” Jessi grinned. 

Kristy was distracted by something else Jessi had said. “Did you say that Charlotte Johanssen was engaged?” she asked. 

Jessi shook her head. “Not Charlotte. It was one of the other two girls—Haley or Vanessa.” She whipped out her cell phone with a sly expression. “I can call Becca and find out, if the love lives of our former clients are that interesting to you.” 

Kristy cracked a grin in spite of herself. “No, no, don’t call Becca. It’s just…well, to be honest, it makes me feel old when I hear things about our old baby-sitting charges being all grown up. It freaks me out enough when I think that Karen and David Michael are about to graduate high school.” 

Jessi and I nodded in understanding about the feeling old bit, even though Kristy and I were not yet twenty-four and Jessi’s even younger. “If you think about it, though,” Jessi said, “Vanessa and Haley are only two years younger than I am. I’m not ready to get married, but I could be engaged, if I’d found the right man.” 

“Yeah, but they’re only twenty,” Kristy replied. “They’re practically babies still.” 

“Kristy?” I spoke up for the first time in a while. The two of them looked at me. “When we were twenty, I was already married, and you had a two year old. We can’t really judge, can we?” 

Jessi tried hard to hide a grin, while Kristy scowled. She’s always hated having someone point out the faults in her logic. 

Before she could come up with any type of retort, however, the bar door opened and a hurricane of a young woman blew in. “Babysitter bitches!” Abby cried from across the entire room. Probably every patron in the place looked up. 

Jessi and I exchanged a brief glance before looking down, trying not to make eye contact with anyone else. Jessi’s not shy like I am, but Abby can be pretty mortifying when she wants to be. She once spent a month trying to see how many times she could make me blush. I don’t remember the final count, but it was pretty high. 

Kristy, for her part, looked at her watch. “Stevenson, I’m shocked,” she said. “You’re actually on time for your own meet up.” She struggled to get out of her chair. 

“Thomas! You’re as big as a whale!” Abby replied, running her hand over but not touching Kristy’s belly while Kristy glared—partly at the belly intrusion but mostly at the words. 

“Watch it,” I warned, “She’s killed men for saying less than that before.” I took a big swig of drink while Kristy’s attention was distracted. 

“Mary Anne!” Abby squeezed one of my shoulders. “Jessi! It is great to see you both!” 

“And we’re glad to see you,” Jessi replied, “even if it is for karaoke.” 

“I do have to ask what gave you the idea for this,” I added as Kristy sat back down and swigged her water. 

Abby pulled a chair up to the table backwards and leaned toward us. “It’s what all the cool kids do in Oklahoma,” she said. 

“There are no cool kids in Oklahoma,” Kristy commented. Abby rolled her eyes. “Isn’t the average young person’s idea of a good time down there shooting off some guns at a party in the woods?” 

“Well, I won’t speak for the high school kids and undergrads. But I can tell you that Kat and Bailey and I do this at least once a week to blow off steam.” 

“Refresh my memory,” I told her. “Who are Kat and Bailey?” 

Abby ordered a ginger ale. I’ve never quite understood why she doesn’t drink. Maybe it’s the athlete thing, or maybe she just gets high enough without chemicals. After the waiter walked off, she answered me. “Kat’s my roommate and coworker at the crisis center. We rent a townhouse together. Bailey is Kat’s girlfriend.” 

Kristy smiled at me. I stifled a sigh. Kristy has been of the opinion for about ten years now that Abby is a lesbian, because we never see her with guys and she never talks about them. I’ve spent a lot of time suggesting that maybe she was just a late bloomer, as Kristy herself was, or maybe she’s asexual. Besides, whatever direction Abby might lean, who cares? It won’t change _my_ opinion of her at least. It’s always bothered me that Kristy wanted to gossip about it but would never just come out and ask Abby. It was one of the reasons we’d drifted apart back in high school. 

I changed the subject. “Who all is coming?” 

“Stacey said she’d be here. Claudia might still make it, if her mom was willing to loan her train fare. Shannon said she wanted to come but she had to go to some awards dinner with Adam.” Abby played with the wrapper to her straw for a while before getting it open. “It’s my turn for a memory refresh. Who’s Adam?” 

“Shannon’s fiancé. You remember; you met him once, at Anna’s graduation party.” 

“Oh, yeah.” Abby’s face lit up with recognition. “The giant douche. She got engaged to him? I thought Shannon was supposed to be smart.” 

Jessi just about snorted beer out her nose, and I hid my smile. I’d met Adam once too, and while I would have never called him a giant douche—I’ve just never been as blunt as Abby is—it was a fitting description. “Yup, that’s the one,” Kristy said. 

Abby went back to her babysitter list as if she’d never been distracted. “Anyway, I never got a reply to my email from Dawn or Mallory,” she said. 

“I’d be shocked if you had,” I told her. “Dawn’s in Kenya with the Peace Corp. She doesn’t get her email there at all.” 

“Wow,” Abby said, awed. “That’s just so cool. When does she come back?” 

“Not for a while,” Kristy picked up my story. “She just re-upped for another two years. Right, Mary Anne?” 

I looked down at my hands again, twisting my ring viciously now. I don’t have any ‘real’ brothers and sisters, just Dawn and Jeff, who are my stepsiblings. Sometimes—and I know this is selfish and self-centered—I think Dawn, who used to be one of my very best friends, tries to get as far away from me as possible. She moved to California to live with her dad when we were still in middle school. She was in Peru when I got married. And now she was in Kenya. I fully expected her to move to the moon someday, if that were possible. Jeff and I were closer now as adults than we had been as teens, but even he lived on the opposite coast. He had one year left on a teaching degree in San Francisco. I knew more about his life—how he’d broken up with a long-term lover but was hoping they could get back together—than I did about anything that had been going on with Dawn in the past few years. 

Jessi watched me closely, and when it became clear I wasn’t going to answer Kristy’s mostly rhetorical question, she explained the second half of Abby’s issue. “And no one’s heard from Mal in a couple years now,” she said, a little sadly. 

“Wow,” Abby said again, but her tone was more sympathetic this time. “None of you girls have heard from her?” 

“No, no one’s heard from her at all,” I repeated. “Absolutely no one. Not her parents. Not her brothers and sisters. I’m not sure, but I think some of the Pikes are more than a little worried about her. She dropped out of Sarah Lawrence after her sophomore year, told her parents she was taking some time off, and then dropped off the grid.” 

Jessi grimaced at that recitation. It had been two years since the Pikes had heard from Mal. Jessi actually hadn’t spoken with her in nearly three years. I was a little more up on Pike family gossip than the rest of the crowd simply because of Jeff. It’s a little hard explaining the connection to people though—in addition to being an old friend, Mallory was my stepbrother’s ex-boyfriend’s sister. 

We simmered down for a bit after that. Abby started telling us about her grad school program. I had been thoroughly surprised, in a good way, when she’d decided to continue her education. Abby had skated through high school and hadn’t been too involved in the college selection process. But she’d really gotten interested in sports medicine. I didn’t understand exactly what her final degree would be in, but she planned to work with a professional or college sports team. 

The four of us were so into our conversation about work, school and family that we didn’t even notice when the door would open any more. The bar was starting to fill up—the actual karaoke was beginning in half an hour and people were already starting to put in song requests. Abby had brought over a book of all the songs and was looking for something specific as she heard all about Kristy’s Vegas wedding and honeymoon. 

The distractions of the noisy bar, good talk and the song list are the only excuses for the fact that we actually were surprised when Stacey came in—for two reasons. First was the fact that she managed to sneak up on us. “What I don’t understand,” Abby was saying to Kristy, “is why you went all the way out to Vegas to get married and then didn’t even have Elvis perform your ceremony.” 

Jessi burst out laughing at the image, pounding the table with one fist. Her beer was clenched in the other. “We had the option of an Elvis impersonator,” Kristy said, semi-seriously, “but I said to Tim, ‘None of this imitator stuff. Only the real deal for us.’ So we found us a real, honest-to-goodness justice of the peace instead.” 

Stacey put her head down between Kristy and me, scaring the jeepers out of me and probably making Kristy wet herself. “And it looks like you had a really good honeymoon, too, didn’t you?” she asked. 

“Stacey!” Jessi cried. She was the first one to recover and get up to give her a hug. I was in shock a little, but Kristy was just grumpy over Stacey’s joke. Kristy’s husband Tim and my husband Pete are old high school friends. One of Pete’s favorite jokes through the past couple months has been about how Kristy and Tim lost their virginity back in high school and got pregnant, and then got married and got pregnant again right away. The fact that there was a six year gap between these two pregnancies was seemingly lost on Pete. What can I say, though? I didn’t marry the man for his sense of humor. 

Stacey gratefully returned Jessi’s hug. “And I brought someone with me!” she exclaimed, trying to sound more upbeat and chipper than she looked. 

It was Abby’s turn to jump out of her seat and grab a hug. “Claudee Kishi!” she said in a baby voice. Claudia grabbed Abby into a tight hug around the neck. “I haven’t seen you in at least a couple years. I’m glad you were able to make it.” 

“Hey, Mary Anne,” Stacey said after she’d hugged both of the other two. “Don’t I get a hug, too?” 

I put a hand to my chest. “Maybe. If my heart starts beating again.” 

She pulled me out of my chair and gave me a firm hug anyway. “Is everything okay?” I asked quietly into her ear. Stacey was trying really hard to put up an image of being happy, but I knew her well enough to know when she was really happy and when she was faking. 

Her eyes flashed briefly. “Of course,” she said, a little louder than I had spoken, but not by much. “Why wouldn’t everything be okay?” 

I read her expression carefully. It said, ‘Of course everything’s not okay, but don’t you dare bring it up now.’ Instead of following up on my instincts, I gave in to her non-verbal request and turned to Claudia. “Look at you, Claud,” I said as I took in her outfit. She was wearing a very worn in pair of denim—the kind that either could have been made to look that way by years of wear or by being purchased at a very expensive boutique. Her shirt was almost knee length, with wide stripes of tan, navy and red. It was probably actually a dress. Claudia had always been trendy in some ways and completely out of touch in others. I wasn’t sure if this was the latest in New York artiste boho-chic or if it was just the first clothes she’d found in her closet that morning. 

“Yeah,” Kristy said as Stacey finished her final round of hugs. “Ugly as ever.” 

Claudia’s eyes sparkled. “Just for that, Kristy, you don’t get a hug from me,” she teased. 

“Don’t make me get out of this chair,” Kristy warned. 

“Like you could,” Claudia taunted back good-naturedly. 

“So, karaoke,” Stacey said, mostly to break up that non-conversation. “Everyone is singing, right? I’m not going to get up there if all of you don’t.” 

“Of course we’re all singing,” Claudia answered quickly. “Even me, and I am the world’s most out of tune songstress.” 

I shook my head. “You will not be hearing my voice today,” I insisted. 

“There’s a shocker,” Kristy said. Jessi giggled. 

Abby shook her head at me. “Come _on_ , Mary Anne. What if we all get up and sing something together? Something like…” She browsed through the song menu. “…We Are Family? Or something about friends?” 

I shook my head a second time. “The only way you’ll get me up there is if you get me very drunk and then drag me up there, kicking and screaming.” 

“Ooooookay, then,” Abby said with a grin I really didn’t like. She motioned to the waiter. “Another round for this lady here,” she told him, pointing at me, “and something for the lady in the stripes.” Claudia started to protest that she couldn’t afford a drink, but Abby cut her off. “This one’s on me, okay?” 

“Whiskey sour,” Claudia ordered. The waiter nodded and walked off. “Thanks,” she told Abby a little embarrassedly. We all know that Claud has financial trouble, but as a general rule we try not to bring it up. Most of us attempt to walk the balance between not trying to waste too much of her money and not embarrassing her with too many handouts. 

Abby was still flipping through the song list. “Ah!” she exclaimed. “Here’s my song!” She scribbled her name and the song number on a piece of paper. 

“Good,” Jessi said, snatching the book away. “It’s our turn.” She and Kristy leaned toward each other, poring over the pages. I found it humorous that Kristy, who had spent a good fifteen minutes before Abby arrived bitching about the idea of karaoke, was so interested in seeing what songs there were. 

“If you ladies spot something that screams my name, let me know,” Stacey said, playing with the Perrier she was drinking. 

Kristy raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to trust us to choose a song for you?” 

“Oh, hell no. But you do know what I like.” 

Jessi smirked. “Spice Girls or New Kids on the Block?” 

Claudia leaned over from her chair and spoke to the table next to ours. She returned with another song list. “Here, Stace, now we don’t need to rely on these jokers to pick out our tunes for us.” Stacey leaned over and the two of them also became intent on looking through the book. 

Abby noticed I’d nearly finished my second drink. “Whoa, Mary Anne,” she said, “Slow down. I was just kidding about getting you drunk so you’d sing.” 

I smiled at her. “Believe it or not, I can hold my liquor.” 

“I’m not sure I actually do believe that,” she replied. “But I’m more concerned about why you _want_ to drink so much. Something the matter?” 

I didn’t tell her that this wasn’t an abnormal amount of alcohol for me. Instead, I shrugged. “Pete and I had a little disagreement before I left the house today. It was nothing, but I hated having to leave before it got smoothed over.” 

Abby nodded seriously. She doesn’t get serious too often, but when she does, she’s usually worth listening to. “How long have you two been together? Nine years?” 

“Almost.” 

“I can’t even imagine. If you two have made it this far, I’m sure you can survive a night frustrated with each other.” 

I tipped my drink at her. “We have, many times before.” 

We were interrupted by a shout. “Hey!” Claudia exclaimed. “Any other single ladies want to get up and sing It’s Raining Men with me?” 

“Ooh, me!” Jessi had finished her beer and she signaled for another. 

“Anyone else? Abby?” 

Abby shook her head with a smile, but Stacey said, “Maybe I should join you two.” 

“You?” Kristy said curiously. “You’re practically married.” It wasn’t true, technically, but Stacey had been with the same guy for almost five years, despite the fact that they lived a thousand miles apart. 

Stacey attempted a small smile, but it didn’t happen. Her face crumpled. “Jackson broke things off with me,” she said miserably. “I got tired of being the only one putting any effort into things after he moved back to Chicago. I kinda jokingly gave him an ultimatum: I wasn’t going to Chicago again until he came to Buffalo to visit me.” Stacey loves her job as the financial director of a small juvenile diabetes research foundation…everything except having to live in Buffalo. She sighed. “I didn’t hear from him again for a while, and when I did, he just said that we needed to see other people.” 

We all listened to that, completely stunned. Stacey had dated a lot of guys through the years, but she’d never been serious about any of them the way she had been about Jackson. I’d always assumed they’d get married. This was how serious things were: Other than Abby, who just never dated, and Jessi, who had always been too busy with ballet for guys, Stacey was the only one of us to leave high school with her virginity intact. Jackson had been her only—and in some ways, until she got her job, he’d been her everything. 

“We’re so sorry,” I said, not sure how else to respond. 

“I’m not, anymore. I’m past being hurt; now I’m just angry—both at him and at myself.” She sipped furiously at her drink for a moment. “I’ve realized things were bad for a while. I should have noticed long before that and _I_ should have been the one to cut him loose. I’m glad I followed my heart and went to Buffalo even though it’s, well, Buffalo.” 

The first karaoke singer was called onto the stage, but we were all still watching Stacey. She wasn’t one to shy away from attention, but she was fidgeting and uncomfortable with the visual assault. “Soooo…” Claudia said. “Happier topic? Kristy, baby names?” 

Kristy made a terrible face. “You sure you want to go there, Claud?” I asked. “That’s kind of a contentious subject.” 

“Really?” Abby asked. “What can be so bad about trying to name a pair of babies? Unless Tim is trying to give them terrible names like Ernest and Melvin. Or Ed and Ted.” Jessi and Claudia snickered a little at that, but Kristy just looked frustrated. “No, it’s nothing like that. But the ‘pair’ aspect is the problem. We had a perfectly good name picked out for _one_ baby. We don’t want the names to be crazy matchy like Ed and Ted, or even have the same first initial like some twins we won’t name.” Abby looked mildly put out for a moment. “But at the same time, I want the names to sound like they go together.” 

Everyone thought about that for a moment. “What was the one name that you settled on?” Jessi asked. 

“William Thomas Bennett. We would call him Will.” 

Stacey looked thoughtful. “Very classic. Why not just name them William and Thomas?” 

Kristy nodded. “Tim suggested that. But you all know I kept my maiden name. I kinda thought it looked a little…egocentric…to use my last name for my son’s first name.” Abby looked over at me and I shrugged. I’d heard all this a time or two before. “We finally decided on William Timothy and something Thomas.” 

“Something Thomas?” Abby interjected. “That’s definitely original and unique.” 

We all completely ignored that. “William, Thomas and Timothy,” Claudia pointed out. “Like Stacey said, they’re all classics. I guess you just need to find one more classic to fit in.” 

Kristy rubbed her belly again. “That’s what we both think. We just can’t agree on anything.” 

We were silent for a moment, trying to think of some options. The waiter came by and several of us requested a refill. Claudia turned to me. “So, Mary Anne, when are you going to be blessing your family with a new member? You’ve been married for nearly four years and no babies. Kristy’s only been married for six months and she’s nearly got three.” 

I expected a negative reaction out of Kristy, but she actually smiled at that. I looked down at my hands, but I didn’t start twisting my ring. Instead, I faked a smile of my own. “I’m hoping to go back to school in a couple years,” I said in half answer to her question. That was actually what Pete and I had been arguing about earlier in the day. He was ready to start a family; I wanted to wait until I had my doctorate. It wasn’t the first time we’d had basically the same conversation…or even the tenth. 

I know that I didn’t fool a single person at that table. Claudia and Jessi looked at each other, Stacey made a face, and Abby looked confused. “Mary Anne…” Kristy began, but she didn’t get to finish. 

Several people had been singing while we were talking, and the DJ was switching up the discs. “Can we get Abby up on stage?” 

Abby hopped up and I breathed a sigh of relief at no longer being the center of the conversation. We all turned our chairs so we could see the stage. The Jackson 5’s ABC started playing, surprising me. I’d heard Abby sing all kinds of songs from that era before, but never the Jacksons. She’s not the world’s best singer, but she puts her heart into her performances, making her decent at karaoke. 

When she was finished, we all clapped and cheered as she came back, grinning. “What did you think?” she asked. 

“That was fabulous,” Stacey told her. “What made you pick that song? It wasn’t what I’d imagined you singing.” 

Abby drained her ginger ale. “It’s my regular number, but I didn’t pick it out. Dylan did.” She set the empty glass down on the table. “We usually do it as a duet.” 

“Dylan?” Claudia said, voicing the thoughts we were all having. “Who is Dylan?” 

“Haven’t I mentioned him before?” Abby asked airily. I was having a hard time telling whether the topic had legitimately slipped her mind or if she was covering. Several of us leaned forward, waiting for her to explain the presence of a male in her life. “He’s Kat’s brother. For a while, he was crashing on the couch in our living room.” She smirked. “Now he crashes in my bed,” she added quietly, almost as a mumble. 

At first, I don’t think any of us thought we heard her right. “You…and Dylan?” Jessi finally repeated. 

“Me and Dylan,” Abby confirmed. “What is this, early June? And what year is it again?” 

I rolled my eyes and humored her. “2007.” 

“Ah, yeah. Right. That means that Dylan and I have been dating for…” Abby pulled her hands in front of her face and made a big show of counting on her fingers. I think the eye roll was universal this time. That girl was built for drama. “Almost a year and a half.” 

Stacey was stunned. “I always thought…” she said, then stopped, looking regretful. 

“You thought what?” Abby asked. She inspected the facial expressions of most of the table. “Oh, come on, ladies,” she said, genuinely surprised. “Don’t tell me you bought into the gossip that I had to be gay. If you thought that, why didn’t you just ask me?” 

I guess three vodka cranberries and a bit of surprise was enough to loosen my tongue. “See, Kristy,” I said pointedly, “I told you that you should ask her!” 

Abby laughed. “Why didn’t _you_ just ask me, Mary Anne?” she said, wrapping her arm around my neck and squeezing. 

Her hair was up my nose and in my mouth; I tore her loose so I could breathe. “Because,” I said, “I didn’t care. Gay, straight, bi, asexual…doesn’t change how I feel about anyone. I like you the same now as I did ten minutes ago when I didn’t know what genitalia you preferred.” 

The clinical nature of the word ‘genitalia’ combined with the emotional rant was what sent everyone over the edge. The whole table bar me plunged into peals of laughter for a minute. I sat there calmly, watching them all giggle and snicker and chortle. I worked on my fourth drink as they calmed down. I think they needed the laughter to break the nervous tension that lay just below the surface of that conversation. 

Jessi swigged some beer as everyone else settled back down. “I guess,” she said quietly, “this means that I am the last virgin in the group.” 

Abby leaned across the table and patted Jessi’s hand. “Yup, Sweetie. Sorry.” 

Jessi shrugged. “I guess I _am_ the baby of the group, so it makes sense anyway. Besides,” she said, not sounding the least bit regretful, “I’ve waited this long. I’m beginning to think I should just wait until I’m married.” 

I was thoughtful about that. “Sometimes, I wish I’d waited. Or at least not had my first time on Pete’s twin bed with X-Men sheets, while he tried to hurry because he was afraid his mom would get home early.” 

Jessi snickered. “Pete has X-Men sheets?” 

“Well, not any more he doesn’t.” 

“You could have had your first time while you were really drunk at one of Cokie’s parties,” Kristy observed. 

“Or on the top bunk in a college dorm,” Stacey added. 

“Or in the boat house at the park,” Claudia piped up. “I got mosquito bites on my ass and worse.” 

Jessi turned to Abby. “Well?” she said. 

Abby smiled. “I don’t kiss and tell.” 

The DJ got on the microphone again. “Can we get Claudia and Jessi on stage?” 

We sat around for a couple more hours, chatting and singing. Kristy sang a song from _Wicked_. Stacey sang Mariah Carey. They even managed to drag me up on stage, and I danced around in the background as everyone else sang I’ve Got Friends in Low Places. Finally, the karaoke ended and we all started to pack our stuff up. 

Kristy had given me a ride into town, but my car was at her apartment. “You going to need to spend the night at my place?” she asked. 

I can hold my liquor well, but I’m smart enough to know when not to drive. “No, I’ll head home.” 

She raised her eyebrows as everyone started giving each other goodbye hugs. Stacey was spending the rest of the weekend helping her mother move across town. Claudia was taking a train back to the city in the morning, and Abby’s flight back to Tulsa was in the afternoon. We wouldn’t have a chance to get back together at all before any of them left. “I don’t think you should be driving,” Kristy observed. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” 

I stepped outside where it was quieter for a moment. I knew that none of the other girls would leave before they said goodbye to me, so I had a little bit of time. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed. It was answered on the first ring. “‘Ello?” 

“Pete? It’s Mary Anne. I’m a little drunk. Can you come pick me up at Kristy and Tim’s in about half an hour? I think we need to talk.” 

There was a short pause. “I think so too. I’ll be there.” Pete sighed. “I love you, Mary Anne.” 

“And I love you,” I reminded him. “I’ll see you soon.” 

I headed back inside to say goodbye to some old friends. As we all scattered at the exit, heading to various cars, I turned to Kristy. “Still think karaoke was the dumbest thing we’ve ever done?” I asked. 

She grinned. “No, not really.” She put one arm around my shoulder as she watched Abby’s mother’s car pull out of the parking lot and into the night. “Sometimes, even Abby can have a great idea.”


End file.
